A Close Call
by Sigma Creations
Summary: One-shot set in S5 before Ruth's exile. Something I threw together this weekend when I remembered TheChicaChic's challenge over on AO3. The plot is rather thin, but I hope you enjoy anyway. All characters belong to Kudos and no copyright infringement is intended. Reviews are very much appreciated. Cheers, S.C.


"Harry!" she exclaims and steps in front of him, between him and the gun.

"Ruth," he calls, taking a step forward at the same time as George Mathis laughs.

"Would you look at that?" he drawls. "She really seems to care for you, Harry. _You,_ of all people. But perhaps she doesn't know what you've done. Kept it a secret from her, have you? Perhaps you'd care to tell her now... before I kill you."

"Let her go, Mathis," Harry growls as he attempts to push Ruth aside and step in front of her to protect her. He _must_ protect her. "She's got nothing to do with this." Ruth however is having none of it. She leans back against him, gripping his jacket with her hands, fighting to remain between him and the gun. "Ruth, please," he whispers in her ear, surprised by how strong she is.

"No, Harry," she replies. "I'm not going to just stand back and let him kill you."

"How touching," Mathis murmurs, his lips curling into a fake smile that doesn't last long before his face turns serious and he demands, "Tell her, Harry. Tell her what you did... or she dies first."

She feels something hard slide against her back, and next moment, all hell breaks loose. Gun shots ring out, flooding the room with noise and she feels herself falling backwards, pulled by Harry and landing on top of him. Then before she's had time to recover her breath, he's rolled her onto her stomach, underneath him, shielding her from the bullets with his considerable bulk, his arms raised protectively around her head as he presses his head down next to hers.

The cacophony of the guns seems to last for hours, but in reality it's probably less than a minute. Then suddenly all is still once more and all she can hear is Harry panting in her ear. It's such a wonderful, reassuring sound that she finds herself wishing it could go on for ever. Just as the thought crosses her mind, however, he lifts his head and carefully looks around, and as if on cue, the room is filled with footsteps from many booted feet and several voices. CO-19 is here then.

"Ruth," he whispers gently as he lifts his weight from her and sits down beside her. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

That's a good question, she thinks and begins to sit up gingerly. Her arm stings a little and she turns her head to look at it, discovering that it's bleeding, but Harry spots it first and exclaims, "Christ! You're bleeding. God, I'm so sorry, Ruth." He calls over to Adam, who rushes over with a couple of paramedics and soon she finds herself being lead away, up the stairs and out into the open air.

It's raining outside which somehow feels right. The paramedics sit her down inside the ambulance and proceed to treat her upper arm, where a bullet grazed her flesh, and the cuts and scrapes they find on her elbows, wrists and cheek. They apologise before ripping the sleeve of her top to get to her wound, and she winces as they disinfect the cut and inject her with a local anaesthetic in preparation for the stitches, but as they care for her, she turns away and distracts herself by focusing on watching Harry emerge from the building and make his way towards her. Apparently, he was much luckier, despite his attempt to use himself as a human shield, and has escaped with just a few bumps and bruises and a scrape on the heel of his hand, which he reluctantly lets the paramedic clean.

"If I didn't know any better," she smiles, "I'd say you're only letting them clean your cut so you can get out of the rain."

He gives her one of his rare smiles and leans towards her, whispering conspiratorially, "Not at all, Ruth. It's just for the pleasure of sitting beside you."

She drops her gaze at that and clears her throat nervously before she plucks up the courage to look at him again. His eyes are gentle and a little apologetic as he adds softly, "I'm sorry about your arm, Ruth."

"Don't be," she shrugs. "It could have been much worse."

He shudders at the thought and closes his eyes briefly. "Ready, Sir," the paramedic declares, making his eyes snap open. "You're both free to go. Miss Evershed, you should change the bandage on your arm as needed, and if it begins to bleed excessively or you notice any signs of infection, see a doctor right away."

"Yes, of course," Ruth smiles. "Thank you." She turns to get out of the ambulance, still wrapped in the blanket provided by the paramedics, and finds Harry waiting for her, holding an umbrella in one hand and offering her his other to assist her down. She smiles at him and climbs carefully out of the vehicle, stepping close to his side, the need to share an umbrella with him giving her the perfect excuse. She feels a little unsteady on her feet, the shock of what's just happened making her tremble slightly and feel a little dazed, but Harry's reassuring bulk beside her does wonders to ground and calm her.

"We'll find Adam and then I'll give you a lift home, Ruth," he murmurs softly, turning to face the building from which Adam is emerging. "Speak of the devil."

"All right, you two," Adam smiles. "How's the arm, Ruth? Not life threatening, I hope."

"It's fine, thank you," she nods. "Aches a bit, but I'll live."

"Good," he replies. "Here are your coat and bag and I've got a car waiting to take you home. You should get some rest."

"Thanks," she smiles as she takes the proffered items, giving the blanket back to one of the paramedics who steps forward to help her slip her coat around her shoulders while Harry talks to Adam.

"Anything new?" Harry asks.

"Not so far," Adam responds. "I'll keep you posted, Harry. We've got everything under control here."

"Right," Harry nods. "In that case, I'll see Ruth home and meet you back at the Grid."

"Okay," Adam agrees and turns away, his expression carefully controlled.

Harry smiles as he turns to her and his gaze softens just a little. "Shall we?" he murmurs and, at her nod, slowly leads her to the waiting car. She slips into the back seat and slides over to give him room to enter the car. "All right?" he asks after he gets in as he leans back against the seat. She still looks a little dazed and he's worried about her.

"Yes," she whispers, longing to reach over and clasp his hand, but not quite daring to do it.

He leans forward then and gives the young officer who'll be driving them her address before settling himself back against the seat again and turning to watch her. "Thank you," he whispers after a moment, "for what you did back there."

"Oh, it was nothing," she shrugs, looking way, acutely aware of the driver who can hear every word.

"Hardly _nothing_, Ruth," he replies, leaning forward to catch her eye.

"It was no more than what _you_ did... for me," she smiles, tuning to face him.

He looks like he's about to say something to that, but he thinks better of it and just smiles before turning to look out the window. He's right, she thinks, they have an audience. So she also turns to watch the scenery flit past her window though her mind is full of recent events and the man sitting beside her.

Barely a minute passes, however, before she feels the tips of his fingers softly brush against hers as her hand lies palm down on the seat between them. How she manages not to jump out of her skin or exclaim in surprise, she has no idea, but she succeeds to control her reaction quite well, and only a slight hitch in her breathing betrays her surprise. She doesn't turn to face him, but when, moments later, he brushes her fingers with his own once more, she spreads her fingers wide, and as his fingertips slip between hers momentarily, she squeezes them between her own. He grows bolder then, curling his fingers and lacing them with hers as his palm comes to rest against the back of her hand. She almost sighs in contentment and leans her head back, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the side of the car, a small smile hovering on her lips.

She hasn't forgotten why she objected to dating Harry and her concerns are just as strong as they were a month ago when she'd ended it between them, but they've just saved each other's lives and that changes things. She's not sure how exactly, but she's beginning to feel that maybe it's worth it. Maybe being with Harry is worth all the gossip and looks, the ribbing she'll get from her colleagues and the worry over losing him or being used as a weapon to get to him.

* * *

"Ruth?" she hears him whisper her name and feels his hand gently squeeze hers. She opens her eyes to find him smiling at her. "We're here," he says.

"Where's here?" she asks groggily before she blinks a couple of times and looks out the window.

"Home," he says simply and something in the way he says it makes her heart leap and begin to race.

"Oh good," she nods and turns to look at him, but he's already getting out of the car. She shakes her head slightly to clear it, surprised not only that she fell asleep, but also that she slept so deeply. Then she clambers out of the car and makes her way towards her front door, hearing Harry tell the driver to wait while he escorts her inside.

"Thank you, Harry," she murmurs as she turns towards him having set her bag down on the hall table and slipped out of her coat and boots.

"It's the least I could do, Ruth," he smiles, "after you saved my life."

"I didn't, Harry," she objects.

"You stepped between me and a loaded gun in the hands of a man who's held a grudge against me for years, Ruth," he frowns. "He wouldn't have hesitated if you hadn't been there."

"Why was he so angry with you, Harry?" she asks with interest in a bid to change the subject.

"His brother was killed," he sighs. "It was an accident, one that couldn't be prevented. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he still blames me... blamed I should say."

"He's dead?" she asks in surprise.

"Yes," he nods. "I... shot him. I had a gun on me and they never checked. Everything happened so fast. If you hadn't been there and if you hadn't stepped in front of me..." He tails off and takes a step towards her, reaching for her hands and gripping them gently in his own. "Thank you, Ruth."

"I'm glad it worked," she nods, staring into his warm, hazel eyes. Silence settles between them, both of them unwilling to break it in case the moment between them is lost. Eventually she whispers, "I'd do it again, you know."

He smiles, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek. "I wish you wouldn't," he murmurs. "I was terrified he'd hurt you. If I'd lost you..." He tails off, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, and for the first time ever she sees the extent of his feelings for her shimmering in his eyes. He loves her, she realises, _really_ loves her with all his heart.

"Oh, so it's okay for you to squash me flat into the concrete floor and use your body to shield me from bullets, but it's not all right for me to do the same?" she asks indignantly, partly in irritation, but partly to lighten the mood as she feels overwhelmed by her feelings and the intimacy of the moment.

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly and he leans forward, his right hand resting gently against her back and his cheek almost touching hers as he whispers in her ear, "Don't be ridiculous, Ruth. I would be more than happy to have you attempt to squash me flat... though I'd prefer you attempted it in a bed rather than the floor, sans the hailstorm of bullets whizzing above our heads."

She thumps him hard in the chest then and watches as he pulls back laughing, and it's such a wonderful sound that she finds herself unable to hold back the smile that wants to spread across her face. "Watch it, Harry," she warns. "I could charge you with sexual harassment you know."

He sobers then and murmurs, "But you wouldn't do that, Ruth."

"Wouldn't I?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No," he smiles. "You were prepared to risk your life to save me, Ruth. I know you feel more for me than you let on... and I'm prepared to wait... for as long as it takes, Ruth."

"Harry," she sighs. "I can't promise that I'll ever be... ready to-"

"You don't need to promise," he interrupts, taking a step towards her and slowly slipping his arms around her.

She sighs and leans into him, her forehead coming to rest against his chest. "It's not fair on you, Harry," she whispers.

"_My_ life, _my_ choice," he says. "And there is nothing you can do about it."

"And if I never find the courage?" she asks softly.

"Then we'll remain as we are... colleagues, friends, people who save each other's lives on occasion," he replies, kissing her hair softly.

She's silent for a long time, the driver outside forgotten as she struggles with her feelings for Harry and the knowledge that dating him will change every relationship she has at work forever. "I _want_ to be brave, Harry, but I'm not sure I can do it. Not yet," she whispers, slipping her arms round his waist and pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together. She feels something hard push against her stomach and pulls back, a little alarmed. "What's that?" she asks in surprise.

His arms release her as he feels in his pocket for the gun and pulls it out. "I forgot to give it to Adam," he smiles, clearly amused by her reaction.

"And here I thought you were happy to see me. You had a pistol in your pocket," she giggles.

"I'm _always _happy to see you, Ruth," he grins, "though luckily, at my age, it's much easier to hide."

"Harry!" she exclaims, her cheeks flaming as she drops her gaze for a second before realising that she's inadvertently looking at his groin. Then she quickly lifts her eyes to his once more, but seeing the teasing amusement in his gaze, she hastily drops them to his neck where his shirt's unbuttoned, revealing his soft, warm skin. Damn the man, she thinks, he's far too sexy to be allowed.

"You're the one who brought it up, Ruth," he murmurs seductively, relishing the innuendo, before relenting at her obvious discomfort and taking a step back. "I'd best get going or our driver will wonder what exactly we're up to in here." She lifts panicked eyes to his then, but he's quick to reassure her. "Don't worry. I'll think of something. Perhaps I needed to use your bathroom. It's only been ten minutes or so."

"Thank you, Harry," she murmurs softly.

He smiles in return and says, "You get some rest now. All right? I'll see you tomorrow." Then he turns towards the door, but the sound of his name makes him turn back again. "Yes?" he murmurs.

She hesitates for a moment, but then she takes a step forward, and putting her hands on his chest for balance, she lifts herself on tiptoe and presses a soft kiss against his lips. It's the first time she's every kissed them and they're wonderful, so soft and warm and perfect.

When she pulls back, he looks stunned, pursing his lips adorably and making her want to come back for more. Then a small smile spreads across his face and he murmurs softly, "What was that for, Ruth?"

She shrugs helplessly and shakes her head, feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, unsure of what to tell him. "Does there have to be a reason?" she asks.

"Yes," he nods. "Then I can take care to do it again."

She chuckles at that, and smiling up at him, she whispers, "In that case, it's because you're so understanding and patient... And to seal the promise I've just made myself to try to be brave."


End file.
